Quiet Moments
by Christina Marie
Summary: Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.


  
'The Secret Service is Concerned.'  
  
What a phrase... 'The Secret Service is Concerned.' Concerned with a capital 'C', no less. They were concerned for his safety. They were concerned for his health. They were concerned for his well-being. They were concerned for his sanity.  
  
Well, why shouldn't they be? He was only half there, anyway. Half his heart was gone, half his life had been ripped away. His soul was ragged and bleeding, so of course, the Secret Service should be concerned! Never mind the bullets that might fly all around him... given recent events, the Secret Service would be 'concerned' that he'd walk straight into them.  
  
  
"Well, at least I'd stop worrying them then, wouldn't I?" he said aloud, knowing that there would be no one to hear him.   
  
He took a step back from the window, where he had been looking out at the snow and contemplating the bubble that was his life.   
  
It had suddenly turned very cold.   
  
  
That evening, he had hung up on Ken Kato, the Secretary of the Treasury. Actually *hung up* on him. '"The Secret Service," Kato had said, "is concerned about you, sir. You're not eating, you barely sleep, and when you do it's not for long..."  
  
The reaction to that had been swift. "I thought the Secret Service didn't talk about the private lives of their protectees."  
  
"Not unless it interferes with their ability to do the job. Frankly, you're scaring the hell out of those boys."  
  
"They should be scared. The world is a scary place."   
  
And with that, he'd hung up before Ken could articulate a response.  
  
  
  
Watching the snow swirl on the driveway outside, it struck him that for the first time in years, he really didn't know what to do. She had always been the one to push him through the hard times... when they'd lost Peter in Quang Tri, she'd been the one to drive four hours to spend the night holding him. When his father had died, she'd been the one to help his mother make the funeral arrangements. She'd suffered in silence, just listening as he cursed the world time after time, thinking nothing of her own disappointments...  
  
The one person he'd go to for comfort in a time like this was the one he had lost, and it was killing him inside.  
  
He took one last look at the snow before walking away from the window. It was nearly midnight, and he really did need to at least try to sleep.  
  
  
  
  
  
*ring, ring*  
  
  
  
Leo McGarry shook himself awake. "Yeah?"  
  
"Leo?"  
  
"John? Is that you?"  
  
There was a silence on the other end, and Leo wasn't sure if the caller had hung up. Then, "Yeah... yeah, it's me."  
  
"John, what's wrong?" Leo could hear something in the voice, something that told him to wake himself up. For the Vice President to be calling him at... three in the morning... it had to be important.  
  
"I'm losing it here, Leo. I've got a bottle of scotch sitting in front of me and..."  
  
"You know I have to ask you this... have you been drinking?"   
  
There was a chuckle. "No, not yet. Been thinking about it for the last half hour, though."  
  
Leo sighed in relief.   
  
"Leo... I don't know what to do any more. I tried to sleep, but I can't. Every time I close my eyes, I see her... it's killing me. I don't... I don't think I can do this."  
  
"Is there anything I can do?" Leo held his breath as the silence lengthened. Then, after what felt like forever...  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'll be there in a few minutes."  
  
  
  
  
A year ago, if you had told Leo McGarry he would be racing through the streets of Washington in the middle of the night to help the Vice President, you would have been laughed out of his office. Given recent events, however, the idea wasn't so foreign. John had helped him out after Jenny asked for the divorce, inviting him to join a covert AA meeting. While he wasn't exactly a sponsor, the relationship between them had thawed considerably since, apparently to the point where they could ask each other for help.  
  
Leo knew that the death of his wife had left a huge void in John's life. In the two months since her passing, the absence of her influence had been clear. The Vice President still attended to all of his duties, but nothing else. He didn't socialize, didn't meet with anyone outside the austerity of his offices. He'd even stopped attending the 'card game' he'd set up. That, more than anything, had Leo worried. Add that to the call he'd received a few minutes ago, and there might be trouble.  
  
  
As the car pulled up to the gates of the Naval Observatory, Leo dug in his pocket for his identification card. He knew he wasn't expected, but he had a damn good reason for coming.  
  
  
  
  
  
'He looks like hell.'  
  
That was the first thing that ran through Leo's mind when he saw the Vice President, sitting on the couch in the living room, his face unshaven, his eyes rimmed red.   
  
"Oh, God, John," Leo whispered.   
  
Hoynes looked up, focusing his eyes in the darkness. "How you doin', Leo?"  
  
"I'm doing better than you, by the looks of it."  
  
Hoynes chuckled, a hollow sound, almost forced. "Yeah, I bet you are."  
  
Leo took off his overcoat, setting it in a chair and sitting down next to him. "You called."  
  
"I'm sorry to have dragged you all the way out here."  
  
"It's no trouble."  
  
Hoynes shook his head. "No, really. I'm fine." He paused. "it's nothing."  
  
"You wouldn't have called me if it was nothing."  
  
Hoynes was silent. He turned away from Leo and looked towards the window that opened onto the park surrounding the house. He sat there, just watching the snow fall under the light of a full moon.  
  
Leo sat, not knowing what to do. If John had been drinking, he'd know exactly what he was supposed to do, but in this place and this time, he was at a loss. He knew that some people fell back off the wagon when grief became too much to bear, but this wasn't exactly something the Steps covered.   
  
The only sound in the house was the ticking of the clocks, and the muted voices of the Secret Service agents on their rounds.   
  
  
  
After what felt like an eternity of near-silence, Leo stood up. "I'm gonna make some coffee. You want some coffee?"  
  
Hoynes didn't answer him, didn't even acknowledge that he'd heard the question.  
  
"Okay," Leo said under his breath. He walked around the coffeetable, carefully picking up the unopened bottle of scotch as he walked by.   
  
Finding the kitchen wasn't hard. The house had more than thirty rooms, but Leo had been a semi-regular guest during the previous administrations, so he had a pretty good idea of where it was. The first thing he did as he entered was crack open the bottle of scotch, God only knew where John had gotten it, and poured the whole thing down the sink, chasing it with the tap. No reason to have the temptation around.  
  
Now... where did the stewards hide the coffee...?  
  
  
  
Leo backed out of the kitchen's double doors a few minutes later, a steaming cup of coffee in each hand. The Vice President hadn't moved from his position, his attention still drawn outside, to the snow and the cold.  
  
"Here you go." He set one of the cups down in front of John, and took his own back to the armchair he'd claimed.  
  
There was no reaction. Leo watched him, as he took a sip from his own cup. "Look... I'm not leaving. Not now. You called me."  
  
Hoynes looked away from the window. "I don't need a babysitter," he said softly.  
  
Leo shrugged. "Maybe not - but you need to do something. You can't keep doing... whatever it is you're doing, 'cause whatever it is, it's not working." Leo picked up his cup again.  
  
"It's working."  
  
Leo shook his head. "No, it's not. Look at yourself, John - you're falling apart. You barely pay attention during the Cabinet meetings, you're losing your temper with your staff..." he paused. "You aren't coming to the meetings."  
  
Hoynes said nothing.   
  
"Something has got to give."  
  
He slowly shook his head. "There's nothing left," he said softly. "She... she was everything to me. Everything."  
  
Now it was Leo's turn to be silent. He watched in anticipation as John picked up the cup of coffee and took a few sips. He kept the cup as he stood and walked over the mantle of the fireplace, running his fingers over the frames of the numerous photographs that were mounted there... all of the once-inseparable couple: from high school to the Inauguration, up to the previous Christmas.  
  
Hoynes bowed his head. "I...I was so - scared, Leo. I was terrified. She..." his voice faltered. "Her face... she was just white, like a... but I couldn't do anything... she was crying, it hurt so much... I didn't know what to do. The Secret Service... I don't even remember how they knew... they just showed up..." He shuddered, trying to keep himself from falling back into that night, from reliving the most painful moment of his life.  
  
"The doctors... they said it was something... a blood vessel... in her brain. They wanted to 'observe' her, find out what was wrong." He choked back a sob. Suddenly his voice changed, taking on an angry, mocking tone. "It wasn't even an hour, before this... this kid... is telling me that she's gone." He sucked down the rest of the coffee, then took a few deep breaths, trying to stay calm.  
  
"I thought... I thought that if I could just get through the funeral, I'd be fine. I knew it wasn't true, but I thought that just maybe..." he swallowed hard. "...if I got through it, it would be over. But it wasn't. It wasn't over. I thought, 'keep working, and you'll be fine.' That didn't work... but as long as I had someone to take it out on, I didn't feel so bad...until the day was over and things weren't any better." A tear slipped out of his eye, and rolled down his cheek. "Nothing worked." He looked at the empty coffee cup in his hands and smiled wanly. "You try to sleep, but the dreams won't leave you alone, so you try to stay awake. That doesn't work either... there's only so much coffee can do."  
  
Leo was stunned. "John..."  
  
Hoynes shook his head. "Don't, Leo. Don't say anything. You'd only sound like a cheap shrink."  
  
Leo shrugged. "Maybe that's what you need. A professional..."  
  
"What? Spill my guts to some jackass who can't even hear the half of it because of 'national security'?"   
  
"Then talk to Jed... or Abbey."   
  
"Oh, yeah - open up to the President. We can't even stand each other on a good day."  
  
Leo was desperately wracking his mind, trying to think of someone, anyone, that John might be willing to talk to. It wasn't just that he was the Vice President of the United States, although that was a large part of the problem. It was more that he was a stubborn-assed Texan who infrequently asked for help and couldn't take it when it was offered.  
  
Suddenly, the solution hit him like a bolt from the blue.  
  
"Talk to Sam."  
  
Hoynes looked at him, confused. "Sam? You mean Seaborn?"  
  
Leo nodded. "Yes. Talk to him. He knows where you are, John. He's been here himself. If no one else can understand, he can."  
  
"How could Seaborn possibly know what I'm..."  
  
"Lisa," Leo said abruptly. "His fiancee. She died a month after the inauguration. Car accident."  
  
"I didn't know."  
  
Leo shrugged again. "Well... my point is simple, John. You're not alone in this. Politics and policy aside, people care. They'll help if they can."  
  
Hoynes nodded. "What's the catch?"  
  
"There is no catch."  
  
"There's always a catch."  
  
Leo shook his head. "Not with this. Everybody wants someone to be there when they need it. Being here now... I needed help, and you reached out. Now it's my turn."  
  
  
The Vice President didn't say a word, he just stood, mulling over what had been said. He stood there for a long time, and Leo couldn't tell what he was thinking. Then, for no reason, he set the coffee cup on the mantle and disappeared between the double doors.  
  
He reappeared a few seconds later with the coffeepot. He had a slight smile on his face, the first genuine smile Leo'd seen in a while.   
  
John refilled his cup, and then Leo's.   
  
"Neither of us is getting any more sleep tonight, so we might as well have a reason."  
  
  
They sat around the living room until dawn, talking about a variety of subjects, some political, some personal. When the sun began to peek into the room, Hoynes got up from the couch and walked to the French door that lead to the verandah. He had a sad, wistful look on his face as he watched the sun climb the horizon.  
  
"Every morning, she would sit out there, just waiting for the sunrise. She loved to sit and watch the sun come up." He smiled, for the first time in two months, the sunrise didn't provoke tears. Leo got up from his chair and stood next to him, watching with him.  
  
"She said it was the one thing that no one could take from her. Her 'quiet moment'." He looked over at Leo. "I'd give anything to have her back to share just one of those moments."  
  
Leo put a hand on John's shoulder. "You'll get through this, John."  
  
Hoynes said nothing, instead he turned his face back towards the sun and watched.  
  
  
  
  
THE END  
  



End file.
